


The Drill

by LigerCat



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Crack, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, Mistaken Identity, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older Characters, References to Drugs, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigerCat/pseuds/LigerCat
Summary: Phineas is kidnapped. It doesn't go the way either the victim or the kidnaper is expecting.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	The Drill

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own.

_Don't take candy from strangers._

Every kid had heard that at least once.

So when Ferb had pulled him aside on this twenty-first birthday with the advice of _don't take drinks from strangers_ , Phineas hadn't been too amused.

He was suddenly wishing he'd taken it a bit more seriously.

But, really, Danville wasn't a den of iniquity, getting drugged seemed didn't seem like a valid concern.

Waking up tied to a chair and having a knife banished at you by a guy that had more tattoos than bare skin and way too many gold teeth for him to have lost them naturally _after_ being drugged was just completely out of left field. Not that Phineas had any issue with people having tattoos or gold teeth, it was just the _tied up_ and _knife banishing_ parts that were bothering him.

Plus, he had a headache but this didn't seem like the time to ask for an Aspin.

"Where is he?" The question came with a less than intimating poke of the blade.

Phineas blinked. Once. Twice. Nope, this opening line brought about no clarity. "Who?"

"You know who!" 

A hand slammed down on the metal table in front of him causing Phineas to jump slightly, rough wood scratching at his arms. He belatedly realized his hoodie had been removed. Refocusing on the table, it was covered in tools, picks, knifes, and... and a drill. Phineas perked up. "Hey, that's a really nice looking drill. What brand is that?"

Gold teeth shown like, well, like gold from the bright light above Phineas as the man's face froze. "...What?"

Phineas tried to gesture but it just made his arm scrap against the chair again so he nodded at it instead. "That drill. It looks high tech, almost science-fiction-y with, what is that, chrome plating? I mean, who makes that? I'd love to have one. 'Course, I probably wouldn't use it for what you probably use it for unless you use it for something different than what I think." As he spoke, the man's face took on several different expressions that Phineas didn't pay much attention to. "Or maybe you use it for more than for what I think you do and, as much as I'd love to see it in action, it might not work all that well but you can't tell by seeing it just laying there like that, I hope you don't use it on me. But--"

A strangled laugh--or maybe it was a choke?--cut him off.

When it didn't stop right away, Phineas frowned. "Are you okay?"

A frantic nod as the man steadied himself on the table was all the response given for a few moments. Then the man took a couple of deep breath before staring intently at him for an even longer few moments, in which Phineas looked around the rest of the smallish room and tried to see what was behind him. "You... are Finneus Andrew Flynn?"

Phineas snapped his head back around fast enough to make his neck hurt a little. "Uh, no, Phineas Vincent Flynn."

"Can you prove that?"

He shrugged as best as one can shrug when tied up. "My ID's in my wallet. Back pocket."

Some awkward shifting later, the man was going through his wallet. It was obvious when he found what he was looking for, his face colored under the designs of black ink. "Oh." Returning the ID, he hesitantly moved over to the chair, eyes downcast. "Sorry about this. She swore you were the right guy." Two quick strikes of the knife freed one arm, the other quickly following, before he stopped, meeting Phineas' eyes. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you." There was a threat in his voice that would have had most a chill going down most people's spines but Phineas just smiled good-naturedly. 

"I don't see why I should, I mean, Ferb would just lecture me for not listening to him if I did." Once he was free, he rubbed at his wrists. "So, drill brand?"

The man shrugged. "Custom made." 

"No kidding? Who made it?"

A hint of a non-threating smile crossed the man's face. "Hold on, I'll write down his address for you." He paused, good humor mostly vanishing. "You don't tell anyone else about this either or, next time, it will be you I'm after."


End file.
